


Between two Voids

by LouPF



Series: Sabelsmut [10]
Category: Kaptein Sabeltann | Captain Sabertooth - Formoe
Genre: Begging, Biting, Bottom Sabeltann, Dominant Pinky, First Time, Fluff, Hand & Finger Kink, Happy Ending, Love Confessions, M/M, Marking, Minor Injuries, Pining, Porn With Plot, Praise Kink, Tender - Freeform, Tending to injuries, Top Pinky, non-human Sabeltann, there was only one bed but extreme, this is just an excuse to write about hand kinks tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:35:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25558204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LouPF/pseuds/LouPF
Summary: It starts with a bed, as most things do between them.
Relationships: Kaptein Sabeltann/Pinky
Series: Sabelsmut [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1851862
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	Between two Voids

It starts with a bed, as most things do between them.

The mission is a stealthy one, which is why they are only two, and why it is Pinky. Stealth has always been his forte, he's always been lithe rather than strong, and it works in his favour. He's always been great at blending into whatever crowd need be, even after growing and filling out.

They're expected to rest two nights at a local inn while they get the information they need, and Pinky is genuinely not surprised at finding there is only one free bed. He offers to sleep on the floor. Sabeltann only snorts, saying, "of course you are."

Into long hours of the night, Pinky lies on the carpet, shirt balled up into a pillow, watching the bump in the bed rising and falling softly, the bright summer night letting him see clearly when Sabeltann's hair spills out across his pillow and over the edge of the bed.

And Pinky, frightened out of his wits that Sabeltann might wake up, reaches out and touches the lock of hair. It is soft and thick and inhuman, and Pinky's fingers linger, curiosity purring through him.

Sabeltann shifts and Pinky rips his hand away, terror whipping at his wrists.

Closing his eyes, he berates himself for his cheekiness.

*

The next day Pinky saves Sabeltann's life, and when they go to bed the same night, a pillow is thrown into his face without a word.

Later, Pinky will not go back and look at it and think, _that's how it started_ , and he will be wrong.

*

It is several weeks later that they're going out on another mission, this time to scout. They make a good duo - the most and least recognizable among the crew, Pinky one of the best aboard to execute orders - and even if Sabeltann is only grudgingly admitting it, he is _admitting_ it.

This time there is only one night set aside for sleep, and it is only because their destination is so far inland that they must rest underway. They bring hammocks and sleeping rolls and blankets and hope they'll be alright.

They are not alright. They are discovered, wounded, and chased through half the city before they can hide away, Pinky on his knees behind Sabeltann, tucked away between two containers and holding their breath.

Sabeltann does not collapse before they are safe, and Pinky carries him into the woods where they have set up camp. When Sabeltann wakes, it's to Pinky caring for his wounds and preparing cold dinner.

"You're a fool," says Sabeltann, but makes no further protest.

"Yeah," says Pinky. "Are you alright?"

"I will be," says Sabeltann, and Pinky settles with that.

Pinky counts the stars through the treetops that night, listening to Sabeltann's breathing, and he's chewing on his lips, thinking about Sabeltann's pale skin.

*

When Pinky starts dreaming about protecting Sabeltann, holding him, sleeping with him, kissing him -

well, he isn't as surprised as he probably should be.

It doesn't change anything, he tells himself.

It's a lie.

*

The next mission is similar to the previous ones, except it requires more hands than the others. Langemann joins, for he's the only other crewmember who can be stealthy while keeping his wits.

There is still only one bed.

They stand staring at it for a while, and then, sighing like it pains him greatly, Sabeltann lets Langemann have it.

Pinky lies in the darkness of the room and stares at the roof with wide eyes. He can _feel_ Sabeltann's presence near him, lying on the same blanket as he - there had only been two, and Sabeltann uses the other as a cover.

It is more than he could ever have hoped for, and he is content with that.

During the night, he wakes to something pressing down against his shoulder and torso, but he is tired, and it doesn't seem dangerous, so he only paws a bit at the cloth and goes back to sleep, deeming it a dream.

The next morning his face is covered in black curls, and Sabeltann's head is on his arm, and he's curled up against Pinky's side like a child and Pinky can't _breathe_ , can barely think, only stares at him in wonder.

When Sabeltann stirs awake, Pinky can't help but stare at the unguardedness of the process, how open and raw he looks before he notices Pinky watching and slams the defences down.

They stare at each other, warmth pulsating between them even as Sabeltann's expression is flat and cold, and neither speaks.

Sabeltann moves away in a slow, eerie movement, gaze unwavering, expression unchanging.

Pinky swallows.

They don't talk about it. It might be for the best.

If Langemann notices the tension between them, he does not comment on it.

*

Sealife is tough and demanding, and Pinky often sleeps both long and well in the Lady's hammocks. Despite this, there are evenings when he can't rest - when blood spills across his vision and screams of pain ring in his ears. He goes onto deck, then - to the bowstrip, staring down at the void they sail on - or up at the void they sail beneath. Most nights, the deck rolls beneath him - but on some, the water is so still the reflection of the stars is as clear as the sky itself.

Usually, the guard doesn't mind his presence, leaving him alone.

This time, it is Sabeltann.

"What are you doing up?" he asks, gruff, arms crossed.

Pinky is tempted to say something stupid, like 'I was looking for you' or 'the stars called to me' or 'I want to rest with the sea,' but he settles on a safe, "I couldn't sleep."

Sabeltann inspects him, expression impossible to read in the flickering lantern light. After a long pause, he says, "nightmares?"

It's like a puzzle piece slotted into place. Pinky breathes. "Sort of," he admits.

And Sabeltann nods like he gets it, and he leans against the gunwale, careless in a way Pinky has never seen him before. "It doesn't get better," he says, "but you learn to live with it."

Pinky wets his chapped lips, staring at the half of Sabeltann's face he can see, unsure of what to make of everything. His chest is a tight knot of excitement. Trying to keep his tone light, he asks, "Speaking from experience?"

"Obviously," says Sabeltann drily, and Pinky can't help but smile at that. "After what I have seen, you learn from it."

There are a few moments of silence while Pinky gathers his courage. "What have you seen?"

Sabeltann casts him an askew glance. "Are you sure you want to know?"

"No," says Pinky, and doesn't look away.

He catches a flash of a grin before Sabeltann turns aside. "Honesty. I can appreciate that in my men. Come - this is no place to talk."

They cross the deck, and Pinky is dizzy and lightheaded by the time they make it to Sabeltann's cabin. He doesn't understand what is happening or why it is happening. But, he decides, as Sabeltann gestures for one of the chairs, he will take whatever he gets.

*

After countless stories, both old and new, regarding treasures and pain and fear and loss and gain and everything in-between, Pinky falls asleep at the table. It has been a long day, and he is tired to the bone.

When he wakes the next day, there's a blanket draped over his shoulders and a pillow beneath his head.

Sabeltann is nowhere in sight.

*

After a successful expedition and several gold-filled treasure chests richer, there is an Abra-wide celebration. Pinky, partying with the rest of the crew at the core of it, can feel his face flush with tipsiness. He finds Sabeltann in the crowd, and by the tint to his cheeks, he can tell he's been drinking, too. Neither of them has touched much, he knows - Sabeltann would never let his guard down, and Pinky has adopted the same idea. Still, they are both affected by it, and Pinky is feeling incredibly courageous when he says, "can you believe I just found the most handsome looking fellow in the whole of Abra?"

Sabeltann grins, all sharp teeth and humour. "Make that the whole world," he says, "and we'll talk."

"Done," says Pinky immediately, and Sabeltann laughs. It's a genuine sound, and it warms Pinky more than the alcohol ever could. Moving on instinct and encouraged by Sabeltann's smile, Pinky reaches out and takes his hand - it's bigger than his own, broader, calloused. Pale, his fingertips more blue than red.

Sabeltann has fallen silent. Pinky looks up and meets his gaze; transfixed and _dark._

Pinky brings Sabeltann's hand to his mouth and kisses his palm. He doesn't break eye contact. A moment of stillness, and then, with a parched breath, Sabeltann leans into it, his whole body moving closer as though drawn in, and he shifts his hand, pressing his palm against Pinky's chin, fingers probing at his lips.

Pinky opens his mouth, and that is all he does, breathing heavily against Sabeltann's skin. After a few moments like this, bolted into the ground, Pinky tentatively flicks his tongue.

And suddenly Sabeltann is a flurry of motion, fingers curling around Pinky's wrist as he tears through the crowd. Pinky barely has the time to figure out what's happened before he's pressed up against a wall away from everything, Sabeltann cupping his cheeks, staring at him with wild eyes.

They don't say anything. Pinky claws at Sabeltann's wrists, trying to pull him in closer, desperate for _more_ , and they breathe the same air, they -

 _Fuck it,_ thinks Pinky, and kisses him. It's teeth on lips and tongue on teeth, and it's messy and clumsy and perfect.

Sabeltann makes a surprised sound and lets himself be backed into the opposite wall of the alleyway they're in, and Pinky marvels at the sound, at the whoop of pleasure that sparks through him, at the way Sabeltann is melting into him like he's been longing just like he.

"Wh - wait," Sabeltann gasps out, and Pinky stops, immediately pulling back. "This is - this is wrong, Pinky, you shouldn't - "

"Does it _feel_ wrong?" Pinky interrupts.

And Sabeltann closes his eyes like he's _guilty._ "No," he whispers.

"Problem solved," says Pinky, and kisses him again.

*

Things change after that.

*

It's a rocky road they set out on, bumpy and uncertain. Neither is sure of what they have, in the beginning, and it's hard to discuss it closely without growing frustrated. They want different things from each other, and it's hard to figure out precisely what. There are some cold nights and harsh words spat in both directions before Pinky decides enough is enough.

Sabeltann isn't exactly a 'let's talk about it' kind of person, but Pinky makes him, and when they finally figure it out, it's like a tapestry unravelling.

*

They don't mean to keep it hidden, but it's not like they make out in front of everyone, either - Sabeltann is still 'captain,' Pinky is still 'boy,' orders are still followed and petnames only used behind closed doors.

And there are _petnames._

Pinky calls Sabeltann 'dear' on a particularly windy night and has the delight of watching him melt into a stammering mess. It turns into an experiment - how many new petnames can Pinky give his captain before he asks him to stop?

Dear, love, sweet, angel, darling, lovely, handsome, beloved.

*

Sabeltann never asks him to stop.

*

Despite the mess that is _them,_ it takes a while for their relationship to develop into something more sexual. Sabeltann, driven by guilt, stops it before then most of the time - but one day, he's tired, and Pinky is brave, and when Pinky asks so sweetly if he can't help his dear captain feel a bit better, Sabeltann caves.

It isn't much more than a blowjob, but Sabeltann's hands are fisted in Pinky's hair and his moans ring through the air, and it's the best night of Pinky's whole life.

They lie in bed together afterward, Sabeltann nestled into Pinky's side like an oversized cat, and Pinky pats his hair, so light and giddy he would probably soar if he jumped through the window.

*

Sabeltann returns the favour the next day, and Pinky has been on both receiving and giving ends of blowjobs before, but it has never felt like _this_ , and he cums in Sabeltann's mouth, breathless and clawing at the covers.

Afterwards, he combs his fingers through Sabeltann's curls, marvelling at their thickness, the softness, the length. "You have such odd hair," he says, rubbing some straws between his fingers. "It's almost not human..."

Sabeltann tenses beneath him and the pieces click into place.

"You _aren't_ human," Pinky realizes, and he can't help but be awed, to be filled to the brim with reverence and wonder at just how _much_ Sabeltann is. Not even hesitating, he asks, "What _are_ you?"

Sabeltann opens his mouth, but shuts it again, frowning with his whole face. It looks more uncertain than anything.

Pinky tugs lightly at his hair. "Dear?"

"I... have always been told I was chosen by the sea," Sabeltann says, slowly and quietly, and his gaze is downcast like he's _afraid._ "But..."

Another piece snaps in beside the first, and Pinky blinks. "You don't know," he says, "do you?"

Sabeltann doesn't answer, only leans into him, face pressed into his shoulder. It can't possibly be a comfortable position, what with their closeness and height difference, but Pinky doesn't mention it, only kisses his hair.

His brave, brave Sabeltann.

*

Pinky had been drawn to the proud captain, attracted to his stubbornness and determination and strength, dreamt of standing by his side to bask in reflected glory.

The Sabeltann who startles awake from nightmares - the Sabeltann who holds Pinky's hand and sings quiet songs and lets Pinky crawl atop him in bed and kiss him senseless, gasping murmurs of praise into his ears - the Sabeltann who confides in him with weakness and strength alike - that is the Sabeltann Pinky falls in love with.

*

"Why me?" he asks, one night, resting against Sabeltann's side while he writes log for the day.

Sabeltann shifts into him. "What are you talking about?"

Pinky wriggles a bit, nudging his cheek against Sabeltann's shoulder. "Why did you - why are you with me? Aren't there any better candidates?"

"You're an idiot," says Sabeltann promptly. "Are you fishing for compliments?"

Huffing, Pinky rolls his eyes. "No."

"Well, then," says Sabeltann conversationally, "why me? Not that there are any better choices, of course."

Pinky laughs. "I don't know," he admits. "Your courage, maybe? Your determination, your pride... that's why I wanted you, at first. Who wouldn't?" He reaches out, brushing his fingers across the log page for a few days past. Sabeltann sits still beside him. "And then I stayed for the softness, I guess. You're a very kind man when you want to, captain." A thoughtful pause. "And you give good head."

Sabeltann barks a surprised laugh. "Thank you, I do try. As for you? Much of the same."

"But why do you stay?" Pinky asks.

Thoughtful, Sabeltann remains quiet - fingers tracing loose patterns across Pinky's wrists. "Because I want to," he finally settles on. "Because it's worth it."

"That's gay," says Pinky, and Sabeltann whops him over the head.

*

Pinky thinks they genuinely might have something together. It isn't much. It isn't a future, it isn't a family, it isn't a soul-forged bond.

It's more like a _chance_ than anything else, really.

It's more than enough.

*

And before he knows it's been a year and he's so in love it hurts, and every night he sleeps in Sabeltann's bed kissing Sabeltann's skin, and still they haven't gone any further than blowjobs and teasing.

It isn't a problem. Nothing is a problem, Pinky would do anything - or not do anything - for Sabeltann.

*

A late winter night in Abra, he sits at the doorsteps of Langemann's house, a scarf around his neck and a cup of coffee in his hands, and he smiles at the sky, thinking of how _hard_ he's fallen. He'd do anything for his captain before - had loved him, sure, and cherished him, yes - but now he would easily walk across burning ambers without a second's hesitation.

How can a single person mean so much to another, he wonders, lifting the cup to his lips. When warmth blooms through him, it has nothing to do with the coffee.

*

It starts with a bed, like most things do between them. It's been a calm day, for once - the waters still and not a ship in sight - and neither Pinky nor Sabeltann have guard duty, so they lie in bed prattling on in peace.

Sabeltann is toying with Pinky's hair, coiling it around his fingers and palm, tugging gently - petting, ruffling, braiding mindlessly. At one point, his hand passes in front of Pinky's face, and Pinky, feeling playful, darts forward to nip at his fingers.

Everything stops. Sabeltann's words, Sabeltann's breath, Sabeltann's movements. Pinky feels the shift in the air, in the way Sabeltann oh, so suddenly is watching him like a startled animal.

That isn't the reaction he'd expected.

Tentatively, Pinky tilts his head, pressing his lips to Sabeltann's skin - biting gently, sucking lightly -

Sabeltann shudders. Encouraged by the way his pupils have dilated, Pinky takes Sabeltann's hand in his own, gently biting his way up one of Sabeltann's fingers before experimentally licking the fingertip.

And Pinky's hip rests against Sabeltann's crotch, so it isn't hard to take notice of his hardening cock. Pinky hums, nuzzling Sabeltann's palm. "Is this turning you on?" he asks coyly.

"Are you an idiot?" Sabeltann growls, rocking his hips up into Pinky's thigh.

"Uh-uh," Pinky says, and in only some seconds, he's shifted them both so Sabeltann is flat on his back, and Pinky sits straddled across his stomach. It removes any possibility of friction on Sabeltann's side and gives Pinky an excellent view, so it's a win-win.

Sabeltann groans. "You are an evil, evil man."

"Takes one to know one," Pinky quips, and sucks Sabeltann's index finger into his mouth, dragging the flat of his tongue along the digit.

A flush spreads over Sabeltann cheeks, and he lets his head fall back, grumbling, "that can't taste good."

Pinky shrugs, letting his teeth graze skin. "Not too bad," he says. "Salt, mostly, probably sweat and water. Ink."

Sabeltann huffs, clearly worked up, and with a raised eyebrow, Pinky licks from his wrist to the tip of his middle finger, fingers encircling the wrist and rubbing gently there.

Wordlessly, Sabeltann lies there as Pinky sucks and licks and bites every inch of his hand, squirming more and more and getting shorter and shorter of breath. When Pinky rocks back against his waist, his cock is harder than ever. Pinky wriggles his ass a bit across the lump in Sabeltann's pants, and Sabeltann's eyes snap open as he lets out a withered gasp. "Pinky - "

Smirking down at him, Pinky moves forward again, taking Sabeltann's other hand.

Sabeltann exhales hard, gasping, "fuck, _please,_ just - "

"Shh," says Pinky, and Sabeltann immediately shuts his mouth, staring up at him in a mixture of despair and desire. Pressing open-mouthed kisses down the back of Sabeltann's hand, purposefully avoiding the more sensitive areas, Pinky mutters, "you can beg when I tell you to."

" _Pinky -_ "

"And then," Pinky continues, slipping a hand beneath Sabeltann's shirt to brush against his nipples - Sabeltann arches into him. "Then I'm going to fuck you until you can't breathe," he whispers, and Sabeltann actually, honest-to-God, _whimpers_.

It's a thing Pinky has thought of before - Sabeltann not wanting to fuck him does not stem from an issue on Pinky's part, but rather from some deep-buried guilt on Sabeltann's. This had seemed like the perfect solution, and this situation seems like the perfect time to bring it up.

"Yeah?" says Pinky, and sinks his teeth into the soft flesh beneath Sabeltann's thumb, biting, biting, biting until Sabeltann's face contorts in _almost_ pain, and then he pulls away. "That sound good to you, dear?"

Sabeltann really is squirming beneath him, now, Pinky can feel muscles ripple between his thighs as Sabeltann struggles - and fails - to stay still. "Fuck," he says, breathless and needy, "yes, please, Gods, Pinky, I - I'm so h - _please,_ I can't, it's - "

Pinky hushes him again, and with a pained whine, he obliges. "Good," says Pinky, and gently licks where he had just bitten, bite marks already faded purple against the pale skin. "I'll take good care of you."

He leans down, pushing Sabeltann's hand above his head and keeping it there as he nuzzles against his neck, pleasure coiling through him when Sabeltann tilts his head and lets out a choked sound of need. Pinky nips at the skin, then kisses, licks - he moves his way down and bites again, harder this time, increasing until he knows Sabeltann can't take it anymore - and then a bit more, just to feel him squirm beneath him.

When he pulls back, he places gentle lips against Sabeltann's. "You'll stop me," he whispers, "right?"

Sabeltann is panting, but he nods, eyes half-lidded.

"Good," Pinky purrs, and traces the imprint of his teeth, painted indigo against Sabeltann's throat. "You promise?"

"I - I promise."

" _Good_ ," Pinky repeats, and Sabeltann closes his eyes and exhales hard.

He's quick to gasp for air again when Pinky rocks back, though, sliding over his cock and giving him that weight and leverage he's been so desperate for.

Sabeltann whines and bucks into him. Pinky bites his lip to keep from making a sound when the pleasure rolls down his spine like water droplets, eyes fluttering close for only a moment before he returns to the task at hand.

Sabeltann first. It has always been that way, and it always will.

He reaches for the lube they keep under the mattress, one of the safest places for small items like that on a rolling ship like this. When he jiggles it in front of Sabeltann's nose, he chokes on a broken whine, head falling back onto the pillows.

Pinky makes short work of removing Sabeltann's pants, chucking them onto the floor and revealing his leaking cock. "So hard for me," Pinky mutters appreciatively, palming the warm flesh with one hand while unscrewing the lube with the other. "You like me like this, hm, don't you, darling?"

" _Fuck_ ," says Sabeltann again, with much more feeling now than any of the other times, "the things you - shit, Pinky, the things you _do_ to me - " He laughs, a tad hysterically. "Look at - look at me, I'm a _mess!_ "

" _For me_ ," says Pinky, and wraps his lube-covered fingers around Sabeltann's cock. Sabeltann bucks into his hand with a muffled groan. "Fuck, Sabeltann, I love - " Pinky chokes on the word _you_ , doesn't want to say it like this, frantically scrambling to find a replacement. " - The messes you make, you're fucking _gorgeous_ , look at you, so riled up by _my_ words - " He pumps Sabeltann's cock while talking, and Sabeltann is clearly only listening half-way, the other half busy being overtaken by pleasure. Pinky stares at him, transfixed by the way his expression changes. "And it's, shit, it's _intoxicating._ " He leans down to lick the tip of Sabeltann's cock.

Sabeltann jolts with a moan. "Pinky," he chokes, "I - I'm -"

And Pinky knows that tone, has heard it many times before, and he rips his hand away and stays entirely still.

Sabeltann lets out a remorseful wail, to which Pinky responds with a placating hand to his stomach. "I was gonna fuck you," he reminds him, leaning down to press his lips to his ear, "weren't I?"

Sabeltann lies still for a moment, heaving for breath. "Please," he whispers.

"Turn around for me, will you?" Pinky asks, and Sabeltann pushes onto shaking elbows, turning around without complaint. There is something so incredibly hot about Sabeltann letting him manhandle him, and he exploits it - grabbing him by the hips and yanking his ass into the air without issue.

With fingers still slick with lube, Pinky prods at Sabeltann's rim - and, encouraged by his soft gasp, sinks his index finger all the way in.

Sabeltann moans into the mattress.

"Tell me when you're ready," Pinky says, stroking a hand down Sabeltann's back, semi-exposed due to his shirt riding down. "Okay?"

Sabeltann nods.

"Hey," says Pinky teasingly, "I can't hear you."

Groaning, Sabeltann lifts his head enough to grunt "okay!"

"Good boy," Pinky murmurs, and Sabeltann clenches around his fingers.

This is all entirely new to them both, so Pinky takes his time - wriggling his fingers about, flexing his muscles, pulling out and pushing in. He relishes in all the little sounds Sabeltann makes while he works, quiet gasps and grunts and breathing getting progressively heavier.

When he deems him ready, Pinky wiggles another finger in - scissoring them to test the inner walls, driving them deep, then slowly pulling out. Sabeltann makes a half-ghosted sound, and Pinky repeats the motion, then realizes he must be brushing past his prostate.

With an evil grin, he pulls out - adds a third finger - and thrusts them all in, pressing firmly against the same spot.

Sabeltann twitches and cries out so harshly it's nearly a scream. "Ready!" he gasps, lifting his head enough for the words to be properly heard, "ready, I'm ready, Pinky, I - I can, yes, I'm ready, _please -_ "

"You sure?" Pinky asks, rubbing his fingers teasingly.

"Yes!"

"Alright," says Pinky, and removes his fingers all at once. He wipes them off on Sabeltann's shirt, lubes up his cock, then sits on his knees. "Want me to take off my pants?" he asks, to make sure.

A frustrated groan. "Just - just - _please_ \- "

Smirking, Pinky positions himself so that the head of his aching dick is prodding at Sabeltann's hole. "Please, what?" he says, and it costs everything in him to not jerk forward and finally, _finally_ bury himself in Sabeltann's warmth.

" _Please_ ," Sabeltann huffs, "pl - _fuck me._ "

"Good," says Pinky, and gives in.

Sabeltann shoves his head into the mattress, but his withering moan is audible anyway, and Pinky shudders at it, at knowing he makes Sabeltann feel like this, at knowing it's _him._

Pinky takes it somewhat slow, at first - pull out slow, push slow in. There isn't any thrusting to it, just a gentle rhythm to get Sabeltann used to it. Pinky would love to take what he wants, but this has to be on Sabeltann's terms.

"Faster," Sabeltann croaks, and Pinky obliges - nearly breaks in half, it feels so _good_.

He settles into a pattern, pulling out and driving in - he bends forward and fists a hand in Sabeltann's hair - pushing him into the mattress with each thrust. Sabeltann is moaning, gasping a little with every thrust, a constant string of babbling affirmations and pleas muffled into the bed.

Pinky doesn't want to close his eyes, wants to remember this forever, this moment in time etched into his bones - Sabeltann, vulnerable beneath him, and he, having his everything.

"Fuck," he mutters, "fuck, Sabeltann, you're so good, so good for me, thank you - "

When Sabeltann lets out a particularly loud moan at the words, it's clearly audible even through the mattress. Pinky is suddenly reminded of the crew, sleeping just below them, and he tugs at Sabeltann's hair, speeding up his thrusts. "Be quiet, love," he says, "or I'll have to gag you, so the others don't hear."

Sabeltann groans, but clearly makes an effort to lower his volume. As a reward, Pinky leans forward and across him to bite at his ear, lick at his neck, digging his fingers into his hips.

Only when Sabeltann orgasms does Pinky let himself drown in his own pleasure, dragged beneath the frothing waves by Sabeltann's completion. He cums with a moan of Sabeltann's name, the first to spill from his lips, and lies sprawled across Sabeltann's back for several glorious moments. When he comes back to himself, he pulls out slowly, trailing gentle kisses across various bite marks and hickies he's left indented in Sabeltann's skin. "Thank you," he mutters against the one on his earlobe, and he's so warm, warm, content - heavy and light among each other.

Sabeltann rolls over onto his back, and when Pinky sees his face, it's like arriving at heaven's gates. His skin is flushed, eyes wet with unshed tears, drool clinging to his lips and chin. "F _uck_ ," Sabeltann breathes, "holy, holy _fuck_. Thank _me_? Thank _you_ , that - _fuck._ "

Pinky gives a nervous little smile as he reaches for the rag they have hanging beside the bed. "So it wasn't that bad?"

Sabeltann returns the smile with an incredulous look. " _Bad_? I regret not doing it _sooner._ "

"So, uhm," says Pinky, gently wiping down the cum spilled across Sabeltann's stomach, "we can... can we do it again, sometime?"

"Absolutely," says Sabeltann, and shifts to let Pinky do it with more ease. "Just not... tonight. I am exhausted."

Pinky grins, the butterflies fluttering around in his chest soaring high. "Of course. Sleep, for now?"

Sabeltann flops back into the bed, naked except for his ravaged shirt, and gives a dramatic sigh. "I should probably say no," he says. "But yes, sleep." When Pinky only stares at him, he rolls his eyes. "Come _on,_ then!"

And Pinky scurries on over, slipping into his embrace like it's the most natural thing in the whole world.

In many ways, it is.

*

Pinky's confession is accidental. The Lady lies anchored, hidden away from a neutral trading town's port, and Pinky is being sent in for supplies - once again, the obvious choice for stealth.

"Don't forget the rope, now," Sabeltann warns.

Pinky rolls his eyes. "That was _once_."

Sabeltann shrugs, handing over the bag of coins they'd deemed was worth trading for proper supplies. "Once is more than enough."

"Oh, whatever," says Pinky, but he can't quite help his smile. "I'll be back before sunset, okay?" He steps onto his tippy-toes, pressing a kiss to Sabeltann's cheek. "Love you!"

He's out the door before he realizes what he'd said, and he stops short in the middle of the deck, mortified. Shit - that wasn't how it was supposed to go, not the two of them like _this_.

"Pinky!"

Wincing, Pinky turns to face Sabeltann - half the crew turning with him to stare at the dishevelled Sabeltann, a wild look to his eyes. "Aye, captain?"

Sabeltann's gaze flickers across the crew, then back to Pinky. "Did you mean it?" he asks, breathless and sore.

Pinky swallows and holds his gaze. Terrified, heart pounding like a drum, he says, "yes."

There is silence, and the world dances across Sabeltann's expression. "Good," he says. "The same to you." And without another word, like he hasn't just handed Pinky the whole universe, he disappears back inside.

Pinky's breath explodes in his throat, vivid stars sparking across his vision and mind and heart, and Sabeltann loves him, loves him _, loves him._

Pinky walks into town with a skip in his step, confident that he must look like a madman with the wide beam on his face.

He brings back every item on the list, then slips an extra piece of jewelry into his pocket - a pretty ring, golden flower petals unfurled around a gleaming diamond, and it's silver and gold together.

When he presses it into Sabeltann's palm later that night, Sabeltann smiles and kisses him sweetly.


End file.
